Sunday, January 13, 2013

Before taking up a permanent residence in the San Francisco Bay Area, Mimi spent time living near NYC (became a shopaholic), in Mexico City (developed a taste for very spicy food), and Arizona (now hates jumping chollas, but pines for sherbet sunsets). Her love of pre-Hispanic culture, big cities, and romance inspires her to write when she’s not busy with kids, hubby, work, and life…or getting sucked into a juicy novel.

She hopes that someday, leather pants for men will make a big comeback and that her writing might make you laugh when you need it most.

Trapped for decades, a powerful god seeks freedom...and revenge. But the only thing that can save him is the passion of a woman's touch...

Emma Keane is your average city girl trying to get a date. There's just one thing holding her back: the disembodied male voice speaking to her through her mind. Sound kind of crazy? Maybe. But crazy turns downright deadly when the voice persuades her to travel to the wilds of the Mayan jungle. There she will free his body - his incredibly hot, muscled, naked body.

Humans are so frail, so undisciplined, so susceptible to love. And when this ancient being connects with Emma, the feelings she sparks drive him utterly mad. Protective, keep-her-close, never-let-her-go kind of mad. Which might not be such a bad thing because from the moment the beautiful, passionate Emma unshackles his body, they are hunted at every turn. Now he'll have to do everything in his power to keep her safe. But will it be enough?

Giveaway of Two (2) Print Copies of 'Accidentally in Love With...a God?' by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

With his golden face beaming, the man smiled as he stroked my sopping wet hair and cradled me against his warm, smooth chest. “I love this dream,” I said with a breathy voice, then stretched my arms above my head, gazing happily into the most striking set of luminescent, turquoise green eyes I’d ever seen.

To boot, they belonged to a breathtaking, masculine face, a face one would expect to see on the cover of a magazine named something like, I’m Way Too Hot To Be Your Man, or In Your Dreams, Honey.
Oh, yeah. Without a doubt, I’d topped myself this time. Sculpted cheekbones, thick dark lashes, chiseled jaw, and lips so full they had to be meant for kissing or eating something really juicy. He was way hotter than the specimen of perfection from my last dream, and bonus, he didn’t have that scary vibe. I reached up and ran my fingertip along the ridge of his hard-lined warrior nose.

“Emma, what in the name of the gods’ creation are you doing?” he scorned. “We really don’t have time for your immature little fantasies. We’re in the middle of a crisis. Do you not remember?”

I blinked and slowly moved my eyes from side to side.

Jungle? I was in the jungle. And my clothes were wet. Come to think of it, for a dream, I didn’t feel so hot. My lungs burned, my body felt like it’d been chewed up, and my head was throbbing. So aside from the perfect man with long, damp, wavy black hair holding me in his arms, none of this felt like a dream. It felt -

“Holy Mother!” I pushed myself away and rolled into the dirt, pointing in disbelief. “Wha - you -you -?”

“Ah…so eloquent as always, my sweet. It is astounding - you actually have a college degree, yet cannot find better words.” He pushed himself up off the ground.

As he rose, my heart stopped, started, and then went into overdrive. His legs and spine straightened into a towering mass of unforgiving muscles. With shoulders like a lumberjack and thick, powerful thighs, I didn’t know if I wanted to run away or climb him like a tree. He was utterly enormous. Jolly Green Giant enormous. Except, obviously, not green. More golden brown. He was a gorgeous, towering mass of golden brown perfection.

No. Definitely not a cave-dwelling, wart-infested troll. Great. Just great. Now I knew I wasn’t crazy - Guy was definitely real - but now I also knew I was in way over my head. He was gorgeous.

I stood in awe, my mouth gaping as my eyes attempted to register every rope of muscle, every capacious curve packed with power. Christ, he had to be at least seven feet tall.

“Six nine, actually,” he said, guessing my thoughts.

“This can’t be possible,” I whispered, my eyes continuing to dart up and down the length of his body, stopping right on dark trail of hair that started just below his navel and continued down, down, down to his enormous beast of a - “Oh! You’re naked.” I turned sharply, but only to stop myself from reaching out to touch it. No man could be that…that…endowed. Wow. “This can’t be happening.” I covered my face.

“Emma,” he moved behind me, placing his powerful hands on my shoulders. A jolt shivered its way through my body.
I was wrong about the vibe. Way wrong. This man, or whatever he was, radiated hazard. He should come equipped with a set of blinking lights or flares. He was - “Bad. Very, very, bad,” I mumbled, pinching the bridge of my nose.

And pathetically, after everything that had happened, all I could think about was this naked, hard-bodied, glorious “man” who’d just permanently seared his image inside the storage compartments of my female DNA. All men, from this day forward, would have to survive a mental side-by-side comparison against him. They’d all lose.

Then a part of my brain, which was now marinating in a pool of whatever hormonal overload he’d triggered, was trying to tell me something important. It wasn’t ready to capitulate and hand over the keys to the Emma kingdom.

Ah…there it is. “Don’t touch me!” I swiveled sharply, pushing his hands from my body, pointing one angry finger in his face. “I asked you for one simple thing! One!”

The corners of his delicious lips curled as he arrogantly flipped his dark, wet hair over his bronzed shoulder. “Exactly. You asked.” He took one bold step forward, well within my personal-space bubble. Clearly, he was trying to intimidate me with his endless ripples and naked body. How sad. It was totally working, which made me even madder.

He bent down to meet my glare, his nose inches from mine. “But I didn’t agree. Did I? In fact, my exact words were, ‘I. Will. Not. Promise.’ Sharp emphasis given on the not, little girl.”

He so had this coming. I lifted my knee, thrusting squarely in his groin. The almost-seven-foot brawny male fell to his knees cupping himself.

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About Me

I was born in Belfast, Northern Ireland, but moved to America when I was five a half. My parents owned two Irish restaurants - one in Albany, New York the other in Dennisport, Cape Cod. I host an Irish radio program with my mom in upstate New York called 'Proud to be Irish'. I'm an avid reader, love history (mainly Irish history), writing, listening to music, and arts and crafts. I also love to laugh and meet new people. I am cheerfully owned by three adorable eight year old rescue cats named Ruby, Leila and Lollipop.